


Can I?

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: First Kisses, M/M, Reunion Fic, unexpressed emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-01-26 09:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12554484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: A brief glimpse at Silver and Flint's reunion after Silver returns from the sea.





	Can I?

 

Still wiping the blood from his knife, Flint moves towards Silver like he’s caught in a dream.

This is too vivid for a dream. The sand and dirt shift together under his boots. The sunlight is too bright, the air too clear. Silver’s just sitting there, gazing back at him.

For once his eyes aren’t shielded, there’s nothing hidden in his relief at seeing Flint, no hiding the sheer gladness in his expression, and it’s that openness drawing Flint straight to him.

The man at Silver’s side rises first, planting himself between Flint and him with a scowl.

Flint barely gives him a once-over before dismissing him entirely. “Move aside.” He has only eyes for one man here.

“It’s all right.” Silver says.

That voice. Quiet, steady, alive. Flint has dreamed of that voice, before he lost Silver, and every night since. He hears it when he looks at the sea and when his gaze wanders at night to the stars above. He had thought he’d never hear it again, not in life anyway.

The man gives him a decidedly unwelcoming look but grudgingly moves aside leaving nothing between Silver and Flint once more.

Silver starts to push himself to his feet and Flint simply holds out his hand. Silver glances up at him quickly, and then he places his hand in Flint’s and lets Flint pull him to his feet.

Flint’s hand lingers in his, his other hand on Silver’s hip, steadying him. It’s a dream, but it’s not a dream.

“Leave us.” Silver says. There’s a tremulous strength to his voice, he is capable of command here and Flint wants to hear him speak forever.

Reluctantly Dooley and Hands retreat, leaving them alone. The breeze brushes through Silver’s hair and Flint watches the motion with longing.

“You’re staring at me.” Silver says.

“I thought you were dead.” Flint says bluntly. And then, though he’s already touching Silver, he needs to touch more. He raises a hand and then pauses. Hesitantly, he asks, “Can I?”

Silver nods, not asking what it is he wants, simply nodding and Flint raises his hand to slide into the curls near his temple. Silver’s eyes half close at the gesture.

“I thought you were dead.” Flint says, and there’s a confession in those five small words.  _I thought you were dead and I didn’t save you. I thought you were dead and I had let you die. I thought you were dead and once again, my heart was desolate. I thought you were dead._

“I’m very much alive.” Silver whispers.

“You are.” Flint says. “You’re standing right before me and yet.” The warmth of Silver’s hand in his, the tangle of his curls in Flint’s fist. He’s alive and Flint still can’t believe it.

Silver’s grip tightens on his hand. “They’re waiting for us.”

“Let them wait.” Flint says. He needs another moment here, simply looking at Silver and reassuring himself that he’s alive.

Silver smiles and then he drops his crutch in the sand, his hand other hand reaching up to clasp Flint’s face.

Flint leans into the embrace with a sigh, and then his mouth is drawn down to Silver’s, and if this is a dream, he never wants to wake.

It’s a not a dream. The sun is hot on the back of his neck. The breeze rustles in the scrub brush, and when Flint opens his eyes, Silver’s gazing back at him, that bright smile once again upon his lips.


End file.
